


Once and Future Everyone

by kriadydragon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Returns, Friendship, Gen, Happy Ending, Humor, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 06:21:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kriadydragon/pseuds/kriadydragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Also titled Everything I Need to Know About the Modern Age I Learned from Wal-Mart. Arthur meets television, there's a cat named Gwaine, Morgana does have fashion sense, and Merlin is never teaching anyone to drive ever again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once and Future Everyone

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea if there are Wal-Marts in England, but since Wal-Mart did play a part in the inspiration for this story (along with PetCo) and I'm rather fond of the title and a certain part of the story, for the sake of this fic we'll pretend there is ;)
> 
> This is a combination reincarnation and Arthur returns fic.

When Arthur returned, he stepped out of the lake, resplendent in red and gold, the water giving way to him so that he stepped onto the shore perfectly dry. And Merlin, overcome by centuries of hopes and dreams and loneliness, as well as no longer being an old man with aching bones, wept. 

When Arthur attempted to chase down several passing cars to run them through with his sword, Merlin wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and not wake for at least a week. 

~oOo~

“These are odd children's toys,” Arthur said as he studied the shelves crammed with colorful ropes tied into knots and rubber squeaky things shaped like odd animals. “And why are they all the way over here when the toys are on the other side of the shop?”

“They're pet toys,” Merlin said absently, engrossed in the toys for reasons, unlike Arthur, that had nothing to do with confusion.

Arthur graced him with one of those 'I always knew you were daft, this just proves it' looks – yet another expression Merlin had missed, even if it was also the one he'd despised the most.

“Toys. For animals,” Arthur said slowly. “You mean they actually put time and resources into making playthings for hunting hounds and barn cats? Who in their right mind would indulge an animal with such pointless trink--” He looked at Merlin, at the packages of catnip bags, plastic balls with tinkly bells inside and bright blue feathers on a shiny plastic stick clutched in his hands, then back at Merlin. “Right. Forgot who I was talking to.”

Merlin threw a squeaky ball at him. 

~oOo~

Television and Arthur had started off on the wrong foot, which Merlin had been expecting, and he was quite pleased that Arthur's immediate reaction wasn't to impale the thing with the nearest sharp object. But it was the longest introduction Merlin had ever had to make, because Arthur was, for the most part, unable to wrap his head around it _not_ being a bloody magic box with people trapped inside. It involved a rather long and step-by-step education into the world of moving images (“How is that not sorcery?”) cameras (“That is most definitely sorcery”) and film (“Damn it, Merlin, you're capturing images of people and sticking them into boxes! How is that not _evil_ sorcery!”) followed by the invention of electricity (“Well... I suppose that makes sense. Still seems like sorcery to me.”)

What Merlin hadn't been expecting and should have been dreading was A: Arthur becoming rather enamored with television (although it shouldn't have been a surprise, really. Even as an adult and as king, he'd loved puppet theaters, though he would go back into the lake before admitting it) and B: coming across the various interpretations of Arthurian legend.

“How the hell did they come to the conclusion that I slept with Morgana and fathered Mordred! That's... that's... I think I'm going to be sick.”

“Well, Lord Geoffery was going a bit demented when he wrote your annals. And re-translations did start going a bit vague over time.”

“And where were you while these re-translations went 'vague?'”

Merlin shrugged. “They never believed me when I told them who I was. Thought I was supposed to be trapped in a cave or tree or some rubbish like that.”

Arthur grunted irritably. He stared back at the TV, frowning. “When the hell did I ever fight a man-eating rabbit?”

~oOo~

“This Mr. Wal-mart has no sense of organization what so ever. They have children's shirts among the clothes for adults.”

“It's not Mr. Wal-Mart, it's just Wal-Mart. And this is the teen section. Those are shirts for teenage girls.”

Arthur balked. “How in the world are they expected to fit into such minuscule garments?”

Merlin sighed wearily, making a mental note not to bring Arthur to the store during bathing-suit season.

~oOo~

Merlin wasn't sure who was having the most fun with the cat toys – Little Gwaine the tabby or Arthur. 

~oOo~

Merlin wondered if, or more like when, waiting over the centuries for Arthur to return had resulted in him losing his wits.

Because he was teaching Arthur to _drive_. _Arthur_ , who was about as patient when it came to learning anything new, and as about receptive to Merlin's instructions, as a five year old on the verge of a temper tantrum. Merlin had prepared for it, though, knowing it would be an eventuality – Arthur may have needed Merlin's help to saddle a horse but there was a reason Arthur hadn't been fond of coaches. He never did like leaving the reins in someone else's hand.

Arthur seemed to grasp the concept well enough, but then there was the road rage...

“Move, you obnoxious little blighter! Move!”

“Arthur, just go around.”

“I'm not going around, he just needs to move faster.”

“He's a turtle, he's not going to move faster. Just go around.”

Arthur yanked hard on the wheel, nearly tipping the golf cart over. 

“Sure you don't want me driving you places? I don't mind,” Merlin said, knuckles white as he gripped his seat for dear life.

“No,” Arthur replied tersely. He honked the cart's squeaky horn at a rabbit. “Move!”

~oOo~

They met him at a pub, which was very fitting, all things considered. Arthur was celebrating his newly acquired ability to drive, Merlin was lamenting it (the road rage was still a bit of an issue, as was convincing Arthur not to bring a sword where ever he went). A group of drunkards, wishing to prove their manliness and idiocy at the same time, had chosen them as the target. 

It was just like old times, and even Merlin found himself laughing as they fled from the pub, bloody, bruised and triumphant. 

“Hadn't had that much fun in some time,” said the man with the painfully familiar face that made Merlin's chest ache with joy. “You lads can call me Dwaine. I've got a feeling I'm going to like you two.”

~oOo~

“Merlin,” Arthur asked. “What do you do for a living? How do you have all this money when I never see you trot off to some job?”

Merlin shrugged like it was no big deal, because it wasn't, even though Arthur was looking at him warily. “You find ways.”

“You haven't... enchanted people to pay you or anything, have you?” Arthur narrowed his eyes.

Merlin spluttered. “What? No! Of course not! Well, okay, yes, there may have been times I cheated a little when gambling but only because I was desperate. Mostly, though... well, you'd be surprised how much those old practice swords of yours go for these days.”

Arthur stiffened, Merlin's old couch squeaking in protest. “You sold my swords!”

“Well it wasn't like you were using them!”

~oOo~

They took walks through the woods, sometimes, whenever Arthur needed to get away from the onslaught of so much moderness and Merlin needed to get away from explaining every bit of technology to Arthur. It was mostly Merlin who did the talking, mostly about those parts of his life unknown to Arthur during Camelot, then his life after Camelot – of aiding Arthur when he was alive, then Camelot after Arthur had died, of wandering the world, aging only to become young again then old again, wars fought, wars avoided, the decline of magic as technology grew to encompass the world, and Merlin quite certain he was the only magical being left in existence other than Aithusa.

“Sounds...” Arthur said. He scrunched his brow, searching for the right words. He said, because it seemed the only word that would come to mind. “Lonely.”

“It was,” Merlin said. Then he looked at Arthur, alive and well and fully aware of what Merlin was and not caring the slightest, and smiled. “But it was worth it.”

~oOo~

There was so much Merlin had anticipated for Arthur's return. He had anticipated that Arthur would ask about Gwen and what had become of her (and that he would be hesitant about it, knowing it would cause himself pain) and Merlin would tell him everything (also as hesitantly, knowing the pain it would cause Arthur). Gwen had made a wonderful queen. She had lifted the ban on magic, ushering in the golden age as promised. She had missed Arthur fiercely.

She had had a son, Arthur's son.

There was so much Merlin had anticipated, while hoping it never came to pass. But destiny had never been cooperative or kind. Merlin was not surprised to find Arthur on the couch, a beer in hand, tears staining his face. He looked up at Merlin, and his smile was weak.

“I had a son.”

Merlin sat down beside him, then held him as Arthur sobbed into his shoulder.

~oOo~

When Gwen returned, she didn't step from a lake, but from a halo of pure white light that woke both Arthur and Merlin with its brightness. They stumbled from their rooms and out the door, Arthur in only pajama pants, Merlin in a thin T-shirt and old sweats. It was cold, the grass like ice under their feet. 

But they didn't care when Gwen stepped from the light, beautiful as the day she'd been crowned. Merlin didn't understand it at first, only able to suppose that a once and future king needed his once and future queen. There was weeping within laughter within whoops of joy as Arthur scooped up his wife and spun her around. She giggled, they kissed, then went inside. 

Gwen about fainted when Merlin flipped on the lights. As Gwen explored the kitchen, Merlin turned to Arthur and poked his chest.

“ _You're_ teaching her to drive.”

~oOo~

“Good heavens, why are these underthings on such display, and why are they so... colorful?” Gwen asked.

Merlin refrained from slapping his forehead. He'd forgotten they were meant to avoid the store during bathing suit season.

~oOo~

His name was Lance, who owned the little jazz club that Dwaine took them all to for a bit of fun. His name was Percy, and he was big and played saxophone. Coming to the rescue when Merlin's old klunker refused to start wasn't exactly exciting as a barroom brawl, but it was Percy and Lance and it didn't matter. Merlin also got free tickets to the club next weekend. 

~oOo~

“Oh, aren't you just precious, now?” Gwen said as she held up Little Gwaine in his new little sweater of Pendragon Red with the Pendragon crest on the back. Once a seamstress, always a seamstress, it seemed. Little Gwaine took it all as only a cat named after a scoundrel knight could, by basking in Gwen's attention then strutting about the place when he was set down. 

She later made him some light chain mail and a tiny sword. 

~oOo~

Leo and Eli were Tae Kwan Do instructors, Gwen a girl in need of something new and fascinating to try out. She fixed their uniforms, they taught her how to flip someone as big as Percy over her shoulder. 

~oOo~

Morgana's return was terrifying and confusing. No one had expected it and everyone was quite sure it was the reason for Arthur's return. She stepped out of the light much like Gwen, but was as glowering and unhappy as ever, mostly because she was immediately apologizing the moment the three of them stepped from the door – armed to the teeth with a sword, a kitchen knife and some knitting needles. The apologies were mostly of the forced and recalcitrant kind common among sulking teenagers, full of eye-rolling and huffing and sorry for trying to kill you and take over the kingdom.

“The Triple Goddess had a very, very long chat with me,” Morgana said broodingly. “She made me help prepare Arthur for his return. I'm supposed to...” she sighed heavily. “Help him some more or something. Now can we go in, it's freezing.”

Gwen made tea. There was talking, some biscuits, more apologies (“I'm sorry I put a snake in your neck.” “I'm sorry for poisoning you.” “That's fine, my fault for agreeing to Morgause's plan. Sorry for taking your favorite practice shield and using it as a sled that one winter.” “That was you!”)

Gwen took her shopping the next day, and Merlin more than gladly let her. 

“Poor thing is going to be as bewildered as I was with all these style choices,” Gwen had said laughingly.

They returned five hours later with new hair styles, bags and bags of shopping, and dressed in the manner of those models in the high-fashion magazines. 

Gwen's only contribution had been to explain the method of payment and point out the best place to go for lunch. 

~oOo~

Gaius wasn't a doctor any more, but he used to be. As Merlin had been there to cushion his landing when Gaius had fallen from the balcony in his chambers, Gaius was there to pop Merlin's arm into his socket when he tripped over his own feet and fell on his shoulder. 

~oOo~

“It's been seven months, Merlin. What do you think it is?” Arthur asked.

They were sitting in lawn chairs outside the cottage, facing the lake, glasses of Guiness in their hands and the air smelling pleasantly of hamburgers cooking on the grill Dwaine had brought over. Percy, Lance and Eli were playing with the little white shizu Morgana had bought (because it had reminded her of Aithusa, who Merlin said was still alive and doing quite well, living it up in the Alps, keeping the yetis from attacking skiers. They planned to go visit her in the winter). Leo was showing Morgana how to do a round-house kick, and Gaius was sitting in another chair under a tree, attempting to pet Little Gwaine around his chainmail. Gwen was sitting next to him, flipping through a maternity magazine. It was going to be a boy, the ultra sound had shown them, and Merlin had the very strong and happy feeling that Arthur was going to finally meet his son. 

“What do I think what is?” Merlin asked. 

“Albion's greatest need. Because so far Albion seems to be doing just fine without me.”

Merlin shrugged. “Maybe it doesn't need you, yet. Maybe this is a vacation.”

Arthur nodded thoughtfully. “That would be nice.”

“Well, whatever it is, we'll face it together,” Merlin said, comfortable, content, and the happiest he remembered being in so very long. “And it won't involve having to teach anyone else to drive.”

“Here, here,” Arthur said, they clinked their glasses together.

“Until your son's old enough to get his permit,” Merlin said.

“I'm leaving that to Gwen,” Arthur said. 

They clinked their glasses again.

The End


End file.
